By gentle interruption and deft transition, Sharlee once more wafted the conversation back to the subject in hand.
"And when you went so far as to tell him this, how did he take it?"
"He took it admirably. He told me that I need feel no concern about the matter; that while out of funds for the moment, doubtless he would be in funds again shortly. His manner was dignified, calm, unabashed—"
"But it didn't blossom, as we might say, in money?"
"As to that—no. What are you to do, Sharlee? I feel sure the man is not dishonest,—in fact he has a singularly honest face, transparently so,—but he is only somehow queer. He appears an engrossed, absent-minded young man—what is the word I want?—an eccentric. That is what he is, an engrossed young eccentric."
Sharlee leaned against the bureau and looked at her aunt thoughtfully. "Do you gather, Aunt Jennie, that he's a gentleman?"
Mrs. Paynter threw out her hands helplessly. "What does the term mean nowadays? The race of gentlemen, as the class existed in my day, seems to be disappearing from the face of the earth. We see occasional survivals of the old order, like Gardiner West or the young Byrd men, but as a whole—well, my dear, I will only say that the modern standards would have excited horror fifty years ago and—"
"Well, but according to the modern standards, do you think he is?"
"I don't know. He is and he isn't. But no—no—no! He is not one. No man can be a gentleman who is utterly indifferent to the comfort and feelings of others, do you think so?"
"Indeed, no! And is that what he is?"